


Canvas

by ani_bester



Category: Captain America (2011), Marvel, Marvel (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ani_bester/pseuds/ani_bester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky goes with Steve one Steve's first attempt to enlist and ends up with Steve painting on his naked body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Canvas

Bucky moved with lazy grace through the crowded streets of New York. Ahead of him, Steve darted and weaved around people, walking with the frantic excitement of a kid going to an amusement park.

When Steve moved in front of pair of woman, Bucky lost sight of him and hurried his steps to catch up. Five years of watching Steve's sense of justice get him pounded into the ground had taught Bucky to never let Steve get too far ahead of him.

Maneuvering around the ladies, Bucky tipped his hat to them and smiled. One smiled back the other turned away.

"You know, Steve," Bucky said as he winked at the dame who'd smiled at him. "You can slow down. I'm pretty sure the recruitment office will still be there when we –" Bucky stopped short as he saw the line of men standing outside the army recruitment office. If Steve had looked like he was off to an amusement park, the line to get into the recruiting office added to the illusion. It was as long as any line to a ride that Bucky had ever seen. Standing on his tip toes to try and find the end, Bucky decided it might even be longer.

"Whoa," Steve muttered, backing up to stand beside Bucky. "Maybe we should have come earlier."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed as he trudged around the corner and toward the end of the line. Steve walked beside him now, dwarfed by almost everyone they passed. Bucky winced as Steve's small frame looked all the frailer in comparison to the other men waiting to join the army.

Reaching the end, Steve took a spot in line, Bucky behind him hands jammed into his pockets as he tried to convince himself he'd trained Steve up enough to pass. Steve believed in him, had set his hopes on Bucky's ability to get him ready for this moment. Looking at everyone else, and then looking at the determination and desire the radiated from Steve, Bucky felt a hollow pit open in his stomach, filling with his doubts and his guilt.

"Steve you know with this many men, they army might be more picky and-"

Steve whirled around and glared up at him. "Don't, Bucky just, we'll see where the cards fall, ok? I know you did your best. It's up to me now to show them that they want me."

For a few seconds, Bucky just stared, but then he nodded a slow nod, lacking conviction. Steve sighed in exasperation and crossed his arms.

"It would be nice if you at least believed in me."

"I believe in your will, and your strength, Steve." Bucky said. He looked down and met Steve's eyes. "If we could bottle that, pal, and distribute it, Hitler and his goons wouldn't have a chance. You could inspire so many people with your art, and with your words, I just-" Bucky shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and exhaled loudly. "I hate to see your potential bleeding out on a battle field because you think this is the only way to serve."

Steve met Bucky's gaze with solemn conviction in his blue eyes. "You know, Bucky, you don't need to protect me from everything. I'm not a helpless kid." Steve stepped closer to Bucky and drew himself up to his full height.

"You think the Nazi's are asking who the sick and infirm are and giving them a free pass? Bucky, from what I've heard, people like me are the first to be killed. The sick and the physically weak aren't part of Hitler's picture of the perfect race. So, if anyone should fight, and has the right to fight, it's people like me because it's not about borders or land this time. It's about who has the right to exist! So, why should people fight and die on my behalf while I sit safe at home here? How does drawing posters, or political cartoons, or speaking at rallies, even if they'd want to and orphan from Brooklyn to do that, compare?"

Bucky shook his head noticing more than a few people had turned to look at Steve with wonder and admiration. Very few looked at him as though he were a joke.

"Well, I'll give you this," Bucky said with a disarming smile. "If they're swayed be speeches, you're in."

Steve rolled his eyes at and gave Bucky a soft jab in the arm. "And if they're just looking for big galoots, you're in."

 

 

Bucky fought to hold his position in the chair in spite of aching muscles and the general restlessness that he got from holding still for more than two minutes. Taking care not to move his head, he shifted his gaze to try and look again at Steve.

Steve sat hunched over in his chair, sketch pad resting in his lap as he whipped the pencil across the page. Bucky could hear the scratch of lead against paper and guessed that Steve bared down against the paper with particular vengeance this evening. He’d hardly said three words sense they’d gotten back from the recruiting office, and most of what he had said had been a demand for Bucky to strip and pose.

Bucky moved his head a fraction of an inch to get a better look at Steve. At that moment, Steve looked up, and Bucky caught a glimpse of the pain that Steve tried to hide behind his sketchbook.

"Steve. . ."

"Don't move," Steve snapped. He looked up at Bucky with a piercing gaze, as though he could force Bucky to comply with his glare alone.

Sighing, Bucky held his position for a few more minutes. But as he watched Steve's hand move faster across the paper and saw Steve's eyes narrow into slits his need to move increased. When Steve’s look of concentration turned down into a full scowl, Bucky threw up his hands and shifted off the chair.

"Bucky," Steve shouted.

The shout caused Bucky to freeze in his tracks. He stared at his friend seeing Steve's red cheeks, his one hand gripping the sketchbook so hard the paper crinkled around his thumb. To Steve's left were discarded stubs of charcoal that had snapped beneath the pressure of his drawing hand. Bucky didn't move again until Steve looked down. Once Steve had looked back at his sketch, Bucky ambled over and knelt beside him. He sat quite a moment, watching Steve's chest rise and fall. While he waited for Steve’s temper to die down, Bucky raised himself up a bit to take a peek at Steve's drawing.

"I hope you like it," Steve hissed. "Because it’s done now. Really, how hard is it to hold still?" Steve's voice sounded tired, as though the anger had drained all his energy from him.

"Not used to seeing you draw so angry, it made me antsy." Bucky tapped the edge of Steve's sketch. "And now that I see which part me you were concentrating on drawing, I don't think I want that much anger aimed at it."

Steve flushed and closed the sketch book. "I'm not angry, not really," he said leaning against Bucky.

Bucky let the lie pass and instead concentrated on not giving into the urge to pick Steve up. Steve wouldn't be having any of that tonight.

"I'm frustrated, and…" Steve bit his lip. "You tell me I can be such a planner, and how I always have all the angles covered, but really I’m an idiot."

"Well I've been saying that since you picked your first alley fight, but what miracle has enlightened you?" Bucky leaned closer to Steve as he spoke until one hand rested on Steve's calf.

Steve looked at Bucky's hand then laid his own over it. "I never once thought about you going to boot camp without me." Steve whispered. He gave Bucky a wary smile. "Arrogance I guess, but I was so sure, so damn sure, we'd get in together, Buck."

"As an expert on arrogance according to you," Bucky said in a soft voice, "I'd argue it was more denial, Steve."

Steve pressed his lips together and Bucky thought he might yell again. Instead he turned so he and Bucky were face to face. "You take the place by storm for both of us then, until I get there."

"Steve-" Bucky sighed.

Steve, however, shook his head. "No, I mean it. I'll meet you there, I will. I just-"

Bucky pushed himself up and kiss Steve and didn't stop until Steve ceased trying to talk. Steve kissed Bucky back, pushing the sketchbook away as he did so.

"This is a distraction, Mr. Barnes," Steve muttered. He didn't even try though, to stop Bucky from kissing him again.

"Yes, yes this is, Mr. Rogers" Bucky agreed, tugging at Steve's shirt until he pulled it off. "But also, being your model makes me want you until I can’t think, so it's also necessary." Bucky threw Steve's shirt across the room and concentrated on Steve’s pants. "You know that."

"You're a terrible model," Steve said against Bucky's mouth, shifting so that Bucky could pull his pants below his waist. "I've never finished one sketch of you."

"Maybe we should try with my clothes one again. You finished those." Bucky bent low and kissed Steve's thigh, caressing it with his tongue. As he did that, he tugged Steve’s trousers off and sent it to join the shirt. Bucky licked his way back up Steve's body, his smile widening each time Steve moaned and pressed closer to him.

Once they were face to face again, Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's neck. "I like you nude better," he gasped before kissing Bucky's shoulder and neck until he was breathless and Bucky said nothing beyond Steve's name. He could feel Steve pushing at him and Bucky allowed himself to be guided to the floor, allowed Steve to straddle his waist.

"Close your eyes," Steve instructed and Bucky complied without a second’s thought.

For a few seconds there was nothing but the warmth of skin against skin where Steve sat on him. Then, Bucky felt something cold and wet against his chest. He started to open his eyes, but as he did so, Steve's hand came down over them.

"No, keep them closed." Steve's voice was stern and Bucky couldn't help but shiver. He nodded and wet his lips as anticipation burned through him. When the wet, light touch brushed over him again, Bucky cried out and arched his back. He could hear Steve chuckle and then that strange sensation moved from his chest up along his neck and shoulder.

"Steve," Bucky managed to says, "Steve, are you, are you painting on me."

There was a chuckle and then Steve's lips were against his. "You're such a bad model," Steve said. "I thought I’d see if you made a better canvas."

Bucky wanted to say something in response to that, but then Steve moved the brush lower on Bucky's body and Bucky stopped thinking about anything else.

 

A few hours later, Bucky woke with dried paint pulling at every inch of his skin. Steve laid against him, his small frame covered in just as much paint. Bucky grinned like a well fed cat, and brushed his fingers Steve’s hair. As Bucky's fingers caught on dollops of paint and pulled, Steve began to stir.

"God, tell me this isn’t oils," Bucky begged.

Steve opened his eyes and smiled. "House paint actually. Oil wouldn't be dry yet and I can’t afford to buy it let alone waste it."

Bucky pouted. "Wasted? You mean we’re not works of art?"

Steve laughed out loud and kissed Bucky. "Some of that crazy modern art maybe, but I think we'd scandalize the rest of society."

"Pfffft," Bucky said. "Going by that shindig I snuck you into, two naked men covered in paint might be the tamest thing on display. Or the most interesting. We're better than a damn toilet, that's for sure."  
Steve nodded, reaching out to press a blue hand against Bucky's cheek. Bucky took and held it against him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Steve whispered.

"Have you got a penny?"

Steve swatted Bucky until Bucky grabbed Steve’s other hand and pulled Steve against him. “I was thinking you look good blue,” Bucky joked. His laughter died though when Steve frowned at him.

"Fine, Mr. Serious, I was thinking about how I could get out of boot camp," Bucky looked at Steve and touched Steve's small shoulder. "To stay here with you."

Steve inhaled sharply and Bucky prepared himself for a Steve lecture about duty and how Bucky could protect more people than just Steve, but instead Steve kissed him gently. "I already told you, I'll get in. Just give me time and I'll meet up with you."

Bucky wanted to argue. His mind knew a hundred different reasons why Steve would never get into boot camp, let alone a combat zone, but the conviction in Steve's voice, combined with the euphoria that still wrapped itself around Bucky's mind made anything sound possible. So rather than argue again, Bucky leaned forward and kissed Steve's nose. "Fine," he agreed. "I’ll try not to ship out before you get in."

"Good," Steve whispered as he pressed close against Bucky and allowed Bucky to hold him tight. "You look good in Red, by the way," Steve laughed. Then he yawned and rested his head close against Bucky. Within minutes, Bucky found himself watching over Steve as Steve slept.  



End file.
